


Not a Dog Person

by babybutterbeans



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:02:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybutterbeans/pseuds/babybutterbeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(based on a prompt I saw on tumblr)</p>
<p>Ser Pounce-a-lot gets sick, and Anders takes him to the vet. He is not amused by the abnormally large dog that keeps barking at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Dog Person

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I wrote this really late, so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry. D: This is my first Dragon Age fic, so it's probably pretty OOC, i'm sorry. I just saw a prompt on tumblr and had to write an anders/hawke thing.

                Hawke never understood how a dog could be so smart.

            It was almost noon, and the dog was nowhere to be found. He was probably hiding under his bed. Garrett wasn’t sure what he was more confused about: the fact that the dog _knew_ he was about to be taken to the vet, or the fact that the dog could still somehow manage to fit underneath his bed.

            Hawke was just finishing up the last of his breakfast when he was greeted by Bethany, who had apparently just woken up. She had decided to stay with him during her school break, and her priority was definitely catching up on all the sleep she’d lost to studying during the semester.

            “Good morning, brother,” she tried to sound cheery, but the last word was stifled by a yawn. She grabbed her favorite mug out of the cabinet and took what was left of the coffee that Hawke had made not long ago.

            “Good _morning_? It’s nearly noon!” he teased. He always made fun of her sleeping habits while she stayed with him, even though he tends to sleep in nearly as late on his days off.

            “Shut up!” she laughed, giving him a little shove before settling into the seat across from him. “Are you still taking Champion to get his shots today?”

            “Unfortunately, yes. He knows it, too. I haven’t seen him yet today,” he sighed. “We have to leave soon. Do you mind getting him out here?”

Champion, for some reason, had always been very attached to Bethany, so when she called his name in her sweetest voice, he immediately scrambled out to meet her in the kitchen. She got down to pet him while Hawke snuck behind him with the leash. As soon as Champion realized what had happened, he whined and looked up at her with the most pitiful look on his face, but otherwise made no attempt to escape. Which was good, because Champion was a beast and could’ve taken them both down in a heartbeat if he wanted to.

“You should come with us. I’m still not convinced that he won’t kill me the moment we step outside.”

“You know I hate going to the vet,” she said, “I hate seeing all those sick animals. It’s just so sad!”

“Fine, fine, but if Champion kills me, I’m going to blame you.”

* * *

 

            Anders stepped inside the veterinary clinic and was immediately thankful that it was empty. He held Ser Pounce-a-lot close to his chest as he approached the counter to sign in. The young woman behind the counter –Merrill, according to her nametag- greeted him cheerfully, and then greeted Ser Pounce with just as much enthusiasm. Anders recognized her voice from having talked to her on the phone the day before, and she had been very helpful and assured him that his cat would receive the best care possible. He knew that it was probably just a cold, but that didn’t stop him from being extremely concerned about his cat.

            He sat down in a chair facing the front window of the clinic so he could watch the street outside. He just sat there, petting Ser Pounce-a-lot and trying to find something to focus on to avoid worrying about the cat. It hadn’t been five minutes before somebody else walked in.

            The first thing Anders noticed was the massive beast that walked in. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was a dog or just a small, less-furry bear. He clutched Ser Pounce to his chest tightly, knowing the cat wasn’t very fond of dogs, and this dog was _definitely_ one that Ser Pounce would not be fond of. But Ser Pounce just ignored the commotion and kept purring, enjoying the attention Anders was giving him.

            The dog aggressively wagged it’s short tail and jumped up to put its front paws on the counter.

            “Hello, Champion!” Merrill giggled, petting his head. “Hi, Hawke!”

            “Good afternoon, Merrill,” Anders heard a man say. He finally noticed the man who’d brought the dog –Champion, apparently- and almost forgot how to breathe for a moment. The man was _gorgeous_ , to put it simply. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and _very_ muscular arms, Anders noticed. He had somewhat shaggy brown hair, and a nice beard as well.

            Once Anders stopped staring, he realized that Champion was staring right at him, growling softly. Anders’ eyes went wide, and he clutched Ser Pounce-a-lot uncomfortably close to his chest.

            “Please stop that,” he said without thinking, as if the dog would care.

            The man hadn’t heard him say that, but when he went to take a seat across from Anders, the dog stopped growling. It still stared at him, but it was at least minding its own business.

            The first bark caught him so completely off-guard, he almost instinctively ran out the door. He visibly jumped and gasped, partially in fear, partially in pain from Ser Pounce-a-lot’s claws, which were now digging into his chest.

            “Champion, no! Bad dog!” the man scolded. The dog remained standing across from him, but was now wagging his tail.

            Anders was still visibly terrified.

            “Sorry, he seems to think everyone wants to be his friend,” the man said, now talking to Anders, “He doesn’t meet many cats. He probably thinks it’s just a small dog.”

He was smiling. Normally, Anders would’ve _melted_ if a man that handsome had smiled at him, but the fear and annoyance _(and pain, as Ser Pounce was_ still _digging his claws in his chest)_ were really all he could think about.

            “It’s alright,” Anders said simply. He looked away, staring at the photos of happy animals on the wall, and started petting Ser Pounce to try to calm him down.

            Several minutes passed, and the cat had finally resumed purring happily, when Champion barked again. Or, well, barked several times, and tugged on his leash to try to get closer to Anders, tail wagging.

            Once again, claws were digging into his chest, and he heard Ser Pounce growling softly.

            “Can you _please_ control that beast?” Anders nearly shouted, and ended up sounding more terrified than he really was. Well, he _was_ that terrified, he just didn’t want to sound like it.

            “Champion, if you don’t stop barking at the poor cat, I’m not going to take you to the park for a week,” the man scolded, and to Anders’ surprise, the dog started to whine and laid down at the man’s feet. The man looked back at him.

            “He’s not _really_ a beast, he’s just excited. About everything.” His tone was light, clearly trying to make Anders, who was once again terrified, more comfortable. “How’s your cat?”

            “He’s fine, thank you,” Anders said bluntly, turning away again.

            “I’m really sorry about Champion. He never does this, I swear.”

            “You should’ve brought Bethany along!” Merrill said, cheerfully as always. Anders had completely forgotten she was there. “Champion always behaves so well when she’s around.” She was addressing Anders this time.

            Sensing Anders’ confusion, the man spoke up again.

            “Bethany’s my little sister.”

            “Ah,” Anders said simply. “So, you two…” he didn’t know what to say, so he just gestured back and forth between the man and Merrill.

            “Oh, we’re friends,” he smiled, “I met her right after I moved to Kirkwall, actually. When I found Champion, she helped me take care of him for a while, since she knows so much about animals.”

            “He’s just being polite,” Merrill said, “I don’t know that much about animals, I just love them very much! That’s why I wanted to work here. Not as a vet, of course, I could never be a vet! Having to deal with so many sick animals, that would be so sad! But I still get to see lots of animals here, of course! Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

            Anders just smiled at her. Her enthusiasm (and rambling) actually helped put his nerves at ease.

            He was calm for about 30 seconds before Champion began barking, again. This time, he didn’t stop until the man yelled at him, and even then he continued to growl. Anders groaned and stood up, walking to the far end of the waiting room, and tried to calm Ser Pounce down. The man had started apologizing profusely for the dog’s outburst, but Anders practically ignored him in favor of petting Ser Pounce-a-lot.

            After a few minutes, a woman carrying a rather large, fluffy cat walked out from the door near the counter, followed closely by Merrill, who called Anders and Ser Pounce-a-lot back to see the vet.

           

* * *

 

The vet didn’t spend much time with Ser Pounce. She did the necessary tests and assured Anders that it was nothing serious; just a simple cold. She gave Ser Pounce some antibiotics, and gave Anders a list of symptoms to look out for, in case it gets worse. But she assured him several times that Ser Pounce would be back to his normal self in just a couple of days.

            Merrill led him back to the waiting room. Anders was somewhat disappointed to see that the man had left, apparently having been taken care of by another vet on duty. Merrill gave him some papers to keep, listing ways to help his cat recover as fast as possible, as well as the symptoms the vet had mentioned before. She said goodbye to him and Ser Pounce, and Anders walked outside.

            Anders opened the passenger door on his car to put Ser Pounce in his cat carrier. The cat hated it, but there was no way Anders was going to let him run loose in his car while he was driving. He shut the door and turned to walk to his side, when he noticed someone approaching him.

            It was the man from inside, but without the dog this time.

            “Hey!” the man said happily, “Look, I’m _really_ sorry about what happened with Champion. He’s usually so well behaved, I have no idea what his problem was.”

            “It’s fine, really,” Anders assured him, more genuinely than before. Knowing that his cat was going to be okay, and the fact that that dog was nowhere in sight, had helped him relax a bit.

            “Are you sure? You seemed really freaked out in there.”

            “I was just… overwhelmed, I guess. I’m not really much of a dog person, I’m sorry.” Anders actually smiled at him this time.

            “Ah, don’t worry, I assumed you that weren’t when I saw you holding a cat,” he laughed. “But, shot in the dark, will you let me make it up to you by buying you a cup of coffee?”

            Anders stood in shock. Was this a friendly “sorry my dog tried to eat your cat” cup of coffee, or a “date” kind of coffee? The second choice was definitely appealing, but he wasn’t sure what this man’s intention was. In fact, he didn’t even know this man’s name! Merrill had greeted him earlier, but he’d been too distracted by that gigantic slobbering beast to hear the man’s name.

            “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. That was kind of weird, I’m sorry, just forget I said anything.”

            “No, no, it’s alright! Sorry, you just caught me off guard.” Anders was smiling again, “I’d like that.”

            The man was grinning now.

            “Oh, my name is Hawke, by the way. I don’t think I told you that, did I? Well, my name is Garrett, but everyone calls me Hawke, for some reason.”

            “Right! I heard Merrill call you that before, but I forgot, I guess. My name is Anders, nice to meet you.” He reached his hand out to Hawke, and he shook it.

            The man –Hawke, as he now knew- began talking about his favorite coffee shop in town, and they began to make plans for that evening.

            “I just need to take Ser Pounce-a-lot home, and then I can go.” Anders said, still smiling.

            “Your cat is named _Ser Pounce-a-lot_?” Hawke laughed.

            “Don’t laugh!” he said, but he was laughing too, “He’s a noble beast!”

            “Oh, right, I’m sure he is!”

            They laughed together for a few moments, before finally saying their goodbyes. Hawke had written down the address of the shop where he would meet him this evening, and had even shook his hand a second time before walking away to his own car (where Anders noticed Champion staring out a rolled down window at him.)

            Anders didn’t stop smiling the entire drive home.

 


End file.
